She had tucked her legs under her when he pulled her down, but now she sat up on her knees, looking at him.
“Wait. Erik, you don’t want to?”
He leaned his head up, opening his eyes. “I’m a guy, Kat. Of course I want to.”
“You don’t seem like—”
“I’ve wanted to since the first time I touched you. Since you kissed me in the park. Since you fell asleep next to me on White Horse. Since you wrapped your legs around my waist for the kiss that rocked my world. Since I woke up in your bed last Monday.” He tilted his head to the side, holding her eyes with his. “Every time we touch I want to. But I can wait until you’re ready.”
She stared at him, unable to speak.
The backs of his fingers skimmed the side of her face from her temple to her chin with a feather-touch.
“I don’t want to do anything to hurt you, or to hurt us. You’re the best…” He swallowed, dropping his hand, then met her eyes again. “Kat, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
His words made tears spring to her eyes and something inside of her gave way. She put her hands on either side of his face and pulled his lips to hers. He leaned into her, clasping his arms loosely around her waist until her tongue touched his and then his arms tightened around her, strong and corded, pulling her closer. She moved her hands from his face to wrap her arms around his neck, and he put his hands under her bottom, lifting her onto his lap. The proof of his desire was increasingly evident, and she wiggled just enough to elicit a groan from deep in his throat, to let him know she wasn’t nervous anymore, she was ready.
Without breaking contact with her mouth, he stood up and carried her the short distance to her bedroom, closing the door behind them with a swift and final kick.
***
Katrin curled up next to Erik, her head on his chest.
He lay on his back with his arm around her, running his warm hand lightly, distractedly, up and down the skin of her back. His heartbeat under her ear, which had been so fast and furious a few minutes ago, was slowing down now. She breathed in deeply and sighed.
Katrin had been with Wade for five years, yet she had never experienced anything remotely close to the last hour she spent with Erik. She could not remember pleasure so intense, or feelings as sharp and profound for another human being. For the first time in her life, she hadn’t held anything back. She had given herself completely to Erik, and she had reveled in his possession of her. She tightened her arm across his chest.
“You okay, Ӓlskling?” he asked softly, moving his fingers to her temples and gently brushing her blond hair back from her cheek as he had done when she was sick. “Was that okay?”
She smiled, resting her chin on his chest, looking up at his face. “Erik. You should not need to ask that.”
He smiled back at her, blue eyes sparkling and warm. “Yeah, it was…um…”
“Amazing,” she sighed, laying her cheek back down on his chest and her arm back across him.
“Mmm. It was.” He put his hands under her arms and pulled her up so that she was half-lying on him and they were face to face. His brow was furrowed, and he searched her eyes urgently. “I can’t believe how much you mean to me.”
Before he said the words, she’d had a fleeting fear that he would say something crushing like: I can’t offer you my heart. Relieved, she tilted her head, looking into his eyes, ice blue stars in the darkness of her bedroom. “I know. Me too.”
In one smooth move, he flipped her over so that he was on top of her. “You’re mine.”
“All yours,” she answered, reaching around his neck to pull his lips down to hers.
***
Her naked back was pressed up against his warm chest, and his arms were around her, holding her close to him. In the darkness of the room, she heard the steadiness of his breathing and knew that he was sleeping. I should sleep too. She was going to be tired, and maybe a little sore, in the morning. That made her grin; there was something incredibly sexy about her body being used to aching by his.
The morning. Back to the Triple Peak in the morning. Back to their families, whom she loved. Back to Midsummer, which she loved. With Erik, whom she loved.
She gasped lightly.
With Erik, whom I love.
She felt him stir in his sleep, tightening his arm around her, his fingers flexing lightly and then flattening against the skin under her breasts as his breathing deepened again.
I love Erik. Love him. Completely.
She searched her heart and found she wasn’t shocked or frightened by the force and finality of her feelings, by the easy name she had finally given them. She had probably felt this way for some time. He was a miracle to her. A reward after struggle. Safety after fear. Tenderness after disappointment. And ever since the first moment she’d met him, she felt as though Erik was the person the world had intended for her, for whom she was destined; the cool, doubting cynic whom she was somehow able to help transform into the warm, tender romantic who held her as he slept beside her.
Thoughts of him making love to her almost made her weep—the way he watched her face, making sure she found her release before he found his own. Her blond Viking King who was, one by one, vanquishing his fears. Who had—as if by
